I This is the world in which they Lived! A world wracked by incessant war and never-ending strife; a refuge and promise of safety from the Dead Wars of It That Hates the Living, the Lich. This is the world in which they Fought! A world where life was a constant struggle for survival, and the Gods above demanded blood for their affection. Where monarchs and warlords believed their subjects were as wheat to be harvested for their profit, and where bandits and pirates were a plague on innocents causing suffering for sport alone. This is the world in which they Conquered! This is the world where a certain creature found itself thinking...Death…I must kill. Those were the only thoughts that could run through the creature’s demented and twisted mind, for that was all the creature could do. The Creature was not of this world, this world of form and structure, of rules and linear existence; this was anathema to it. The Creature knew that this was a world of pain, and it must leave quickly to return to where the formless Tau’avé glided across the blinking stars and the many faced Chythelu sang grisly hymns for the fall of men. The Creature wanted to leave this world of lines and structure above all else. But first the Creature had a task to perform. This was why it was in this permanent congregation of fleshy-ones, the ones of all the same form. With some painful effort it leapt from the tops of those hollow-things the fleshy-ones move to and from, though stayed for lengthy periods of time. Its destination was the largest such hollow-thing, easily seen by the light of the red and blue burning things above. That was where the one it had to kill would be found. The structure was large and built along the side of a plateau; it was of one dome structure surrounded by four smaller domed structures. An eight foot wall separated it from the rest of the conglomerate leaving a great deal of space between. Each dome was covered in gold, and an image of the Wheel adorned the top of the central dome. The whole place was made of white sandstone, but a great deal of colorful paint decorated it as well. This was the great palace of the Turan of the Ahktulian Empire, the White Palace. The Creature did not know or care who dwelled in the structure. What concerned it was the large open space that separated the wall and the palace. It could be seen and the more it was seen the more it could be attacked. Fortunately for it, there were hard tall things with a large bush on top that created shadows interspersed with horrid regularity strewn throughout the area. With greater ease than the cats that prowl this ordered world, the Creature moved from shade to shade avoiding the fleshy-ones that walked along the vegetation. Coming to the central structure, the creature dug its claws into the stone. The feel of this hard substance on the Creature’s limbs gave it a feeling mortals would call revulsion, although the creature could feet nothing but hate. Quickly it climbed the structure, finding a hole through which it went through. Fortunately for the fleshy-ones, none of them were in the hallway when the creature entered. But the creature sensed that they were nearby. The fleshy-ones were creating noise in a clearly defined pattern, what the Creature knew to be how they communicated with each other. But sound meant nothing to the Creature as it moved to the grouping of fleshy-ones. It entered a large space where there were many of the fleshy-ones. And as soon as it entered the fleshy-ones began to move quickly around and away from the creature. None of those fleshy-ones were of interest to the Creature, save one. The Creature needed to kill in order to return to its nightmarish paradise. The Creature leapt to the particular fleshy-one, as all the other fleshy-ones made sharper noise and began to run wildly about in glorious chaos. What passed for a maw opened wide to bite down and learn what the red liquid tastes like. Something repelled the Creature making sure it was unable to get close to the fleshy-one. The fleshy-one was flailing about recklessly, its ugly uniform limbs grasping at nothing. The creature desired nothing more than to rip the fleshy-one apart, to feel the red liquid it produced, but something unseen kept it at bay whilst it gnashed its teeth. Then a different feeling overcame the Creature, a feeling of home. But the Creature needed to kill the fleshy-one. Torn, the creature looked around and found a fleshy-one with an overflowing coat and long hair on its face that had its limbs extended toward the creature. This other fleshy-one’s mouth was opening and closing with great rapidity, and the Creature sensed danger. It lunged at the fleshy-one, but before it was three feet away, the creature returned home to Parademos where the air was of fire.

II Benzhui bln’Beyidi Pasha sat at his desk deep in thought over a letter he had just finished. The letter was a report to the Dawin in Osmanta of the status of the province of Assassya. The situation was teetering on the brink of anarchy and rebellion, and as the province’s Seliersey, he was responsible. Taking a deep sigh and read over what he had just wrote:"To Kelim el Beyidi, Third of his name, Turan of the Ahktuli, Lord of Ahktullislan, Lord of all the Land."It is with grave voice and great humbleness that I give this report to you about your Province of Assassya."The situation at this time is reaching a critical moment of great peril. Faithlessness against your illustrious rule has increased to just below the level of rebellion. Banditry in the country and rioting within the cities has been on the rise for quite some time, and many of the Asappe and your Hamyte soldiers have reported being attacked by unknown persons from unexpected quarters. And there are reports of whole villages that plan to refuse the payment of taxes to Your Honor."The responsibility for this brewing unrest falls squarely upon my humble shoulders. "However, the actual fault for this situation falls upon two individuals."The first is Horuzi bln Galez, the high priest of Hooratii, and a strong magician from high in the Jyamah Mountain range. Horuzi has recently announced his intention of overthrowing Your Honor’s grand rule of the Assassyans. To that purpose he is using his position to galvanize the mob against your faithful servants, and scouts have reported that high in the Jyamah range he has raised a sizeable rebel force. You may take heart, however, that Horuzi’s call to arms has not yet reached the ears of those in the city, relegating the rebellion to parts of the countryside."Horuzi’s rebellion would be troublesome as it is, but it has been exacerbated by the actions of another, who acts independent of Horuzi’s command. His name is Thorathor, and from what our spies have ascertained, his is from far in the north of Nosterra. Though he is a foreigner, Thorathor has managed to rally around himself sizeable and rather potent raiding force. This banditry band has made impressive and unprecedented attacks on caravans and towns across the Eastern parts of Assassya. The pace of these attacks has forced much of our Hamyte to mobilize there to protect your subjects."As you can no doubt fathom, Horuzi and Thorathor together have stretched the limits of your soldiers’ ability to control Assassya. The only source of light in this time of darkness is that our two adversaries are not working together. Indeed, there have been reports of clashes between the two forces, but whether those skirmishes were ordered or simply a clash of hot-blooded rebels is as yet unknown. "Your Honor, it is with great humility that I beg of you to send some of your glorious army to aid the Asappe in controlling this province, including an arta of Ageskir. Only with additional units of soldiering will I, your Little Brother and Seliersey of Assassya, be able to keep this province under the rule of the Empire.” Benzuhi sighed again as he finished reading the letter. Kelim had always been a generous man, but as the Turan, he had other, more serious things on his mind. Assaya was hardly an important province in the Empire, so it seemed unlikely that Kelim would send precious soldiers to this place. But Benzhui had to try, those soldiers were quite necessary. Benzuhi took the letter and folded it in three parts. Then he poured wax onto the paper in order to seal it. He then pounded the soft dollop of wax with the Imperial Seal, the most important sign of his office. As he finished a knock came at the door. “Enter,” he said without turning his head. A servant came through the door, standing erect for pronouncement. “Benzuhi Dasha,” the middle aged man at the doorway. “Kamirri Amer of Osmanta is here to see you.”Kamirri? he thought, as the young Lady of the Empire appeared at the doorway. “You are dismissed,” she said to the servant, who left promptly with a bow. Kamirri was still clothed in traveling clothes; a cotton tunic that was bound by a wide lace belt around her waist and heavy cotton breaches with wide cuffs. A long head scarf that covered most of her long hair completed the ensemble. “Uncle,” she said addressing Benzuhi, “It has been for too long.” She half ran into Benzuhi with outstretched arms and they embraced in a hug. Coming out of the hug, but no letting go of his niece, Benzuhi looked into her eyes and said “Kamirri, what are you doing here? You should not be here on the frontier, especially without telling me first.” Pushing her uncle away from her, Kamirri said in response, “Father did so in his youth. He spoke often of that time. And they were just my favorite stories.” “Yes,” Benzuhi admitted, “but it was foolish of him as well.” For a brief moment, uncle and niece glared at one another. It was Benzuhi who broke the silence. “I am happy see you. Truly, I am. But why are you here at all, Kamirri?” Shrugging in that petulant manner of all young people she began. “Benzuhi, do you remember the demon attack on Cemid almost a year ago?” She did not await a response as she continued. “Since then no one has been identified as responsible for the atrocity.” Benzuhi did not like where this story was going. “That was a long time ago,” he said. “Your brother survived and is alright.” “Yes! But what of those responsible! They have gotten away with setting a demon loose in Osmanta and attempting to assassinate the Grand Amer! They need to be dealt with!” “And I am sure that the Grand Amer is investigating the event still.” “He is investigating in the wrong place!” Kamirri walked over to a couch indicating that her uncle should follow, “Cemid has always believed that the attack came from within. That some conspiracy of the court attempted to have him assassinated. “But I believe different. I believe that it was Horuzi of Gadiz that attacked him.” Benzuhi felt a cold chill affect his very being. “Why do you think that? At any rate, how do you know of Horuzi?” “I have had an interest in Assassya for quite some time. Their culture and history has always intrigued me. As such, I have always kept my ear on events that are currently afflicting this place. “But why do you think it was Horuzi who attacked the Golden Palace.” Kamirri sighed. “For starters, the creature that attacked the Palace bore a striking resemblance to Jor’uti of the Night. A djinnish creature that prowls the mountains of Assassya.” “Could be a coincidence,” Benzuhi said. “No two demons ever look the same, so it is said. But that could still mean that they can have similar attributes.” “Probably not. Demons are by nature, unnatural. Besides, I have been hearing of all kinds of things that are from Assassya. I have heard particularly of Horuzi’s admonishments of the Empire and his desire to stage the end of the Beyidi line. Furthermore, as the High Priest of Horumiz, he could have the knowledge and training to control Jor’uti. I know he is the one who attacked us that night. I know it, and now I just have to prove it.” Benzuhi could only sigh in disbelief. What his niece said made a certain amount of sense, though it hardly explained why she was here. Sighing again the Seliersey said, “Very well, Kamirri. What do you need in order to prove this hypothesis?” “Have Horuzi arrested and brought here, of course.” “That will be difficult, Kamirri. Horuzi is held up in the mountains surrounding Goludez. With his little army of insurgents there it is impossible to move on him.” Kamirri was taken aback by the matter-of-factness of that statement. For all her life, Kamirri had known of the Empire as the greatest state of man in Maghdan and Ubernorden in general, so powerful that no one could hope to fight against it and win. True, Assassya had only recently been conquered, but it was conquered. And now she learned that it was not wholly secured. “I have heard that Assassya was experiencing troubles. But is it really so severe?” “Kamirri, in life…Things are often much worse than what is reported.” Benzuhi stood up and began to walk to his writing desk. “Indeed, there are now areas, whole regions in fact, where my Assape can no longer travel without expecting ambush, to say nothing of our tax officials and our diplomats.” “Is Assassya out of control?” Kamirri asked. Panic had seeped into her voice, revealing how much the child she still was. Nevertheless, she rose to meet her uncle at his desk when he turned around. In his hand were three pieces of paper, which he presented to Kamirri. “Not yet, my dear,” he said, is proudness in his voice. I have not been sitting here in this mansion hiding from shadows and rumors.” He handed her the papers for her examination. “I have been ordering attacks, where possible, into the lands no longer under our effective control. Raids mostly, but at least we retain much of the initiative. And it can present us with unexpected boons. “A few days ago, company of Assape attacked a village in the Muitoe mountains. In a house near the outskirts, they discovered a meeting between numerous leaders of the local tribes that have sworn allegiance to the bandit called, Thorathor. If you read the reports I handed you, you will learn that I had them brought here. I then sent a message to Thorathor telling him I’d like to meet with him at his earliest convenience.” “Meet him?” Kamirri asked, surprised. “Meet him for what?” “Thorathor is little more than a brigand. While he has proven himself to be a great and exceptional leader of men, his total ambition is only to steal and take. Unlike Horuzi, who desires true power. So I will meet with him and discuss the prospects of a temporary alliance with him. Horuzi is a clear threat to the both of us, and I am certain Thorathor can at least be reasoned with.” “You wish an alliance with a bandit!” Kamirri exclaimed. The thought that an Ahktuli would do such a thing was most unbearable to the young Amer. “Yes!” Benzuhi exclaimed back. “I am a Seliersey of the Ahktulian Empire! It is my duty to keep the peace in the province that I administer by any means necessary.” Benzuhi knew that he had put too much rage and venom in his voice, and had upset his niece and the daughter of his Turan. “Kamirri,” he said as he grasped her by her shoulders in a comforting manner, “Thorathor is a problem that can be dealt with in time. Horuzi, on the other hand, is the more immediate threat. He possesses a certain legitimacy with the Assassyans, that we lack. He can destroy our presence here in a decisive fashion. Thorathor cannot.” Kamirri seemed to be soothed by Benzuhi’s calmer words. Benzuhi held out some hope that she would acquiesce to his scheme. “It is good you are here, by-the-by. I could use your help in negotiations with Thorathor.” Kamirri looked confused. “What do I have to offer in any negotiations, Uncle.” “You are an Amer of the Ahktulian Empire. So at the very least, you can represent the interests of the White Palace. And at most, you can use your own, wiles, to persuade the bandit lord to side with us.” Kamirri wondered what her uncle meant by ‘wiles.’ He barely knew her. But the way he looked at her all over left little doubt as to what he meant. Dejected at being relegated to a sidekick, Kamirri asked permission to be excused to her quarters. Benzuhi remained in his study to continue with his duties. First he finished up his letter to his brother Kelim begging for military assistance. Then he began to peruse reports from across the province. What caught his eye was a fresh attack by Horuzi’s forces on several villages in the Phurano Valley. Now they had access to the Horutu valley and Haerata itself. The threat was becoming greater with each passing day. And it was a cold sort of comfort that Thorathor’s band of thieves and cutthroats had not been active in quite some time. Perhaps the foreigner had listened to Benuzhi’s entreaties, or maybe he was dead. Benzuhi had turned to a report on crop failures in the Shaduy region when he heard a noise coming from his balcony. To Benzuhi, it sounded as if a man had landed upon it, feet first. But surely that was impossible; Benzuhi’s study was on the top floor of a four story palace. He would have dismissed the noise as his imagination, but then a shadow appeared behind the curtains giving the Seliersey a great fright. Before Benzuhi could make a sound or a move, the shadowy figure burst through. It was man shaped, thin of frame, but evidently quite strong. The man was adorned with well-worn clothes of the mountainous inhabitants of Assassya: goat hair tunic and cotton trousers, under a mail hauberk. On his shoulders was a tattered and ragged opened robe, and in his hand was an Assassyan long knife. But the adornment that drew Benzuhi’s attention was a round metallic mask with the grate molded in the shape of a wide smile and inverted triangles for eyeholes. Benzuhi then knew that the Smiling Demon had entered his home. “You wanted to talk with me?” the Smiling Demon asked. His voice was low and a bit raspy. Despite himself, Benzuhi swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. “Yes,” he replied. “However, I expected you later. And in the morning.” “Now’s good! Or we don’t talk at all.” For Benzuhi, the feeling of fear was now replaced with anger. Either Thorathor was impulsive and rash or else he was imposing his will on the Seliersey with this stunt. Benzuhi was miffed either way. “We will talk now. Would you like refreshment? You must be thirsty from you travels.” Before Thorathor could answer, Benzuhi shouted at his servant, Kelim el Hasher. “Kelim bring wine! Enough for two!” “Two?” Kelim replied. “Is someone in there with you, your Highness? “Yes! My niece Kamirri is here with me,” he said. Thorathor was clearly disturbed when Benzuhi admitted to a visitor, but Benzuhi did not care. As much as the Seliersey desired an alliance with this brigand, he would not make it on anything but his terms, as any good Ahktuli would. Benzuhi indicated to Thorathor that he should sit down, and to his surprise Thorathor did so. Thorathor sat down up on some cushions and took off his mask revealing a white, pale skin face, and allowing his long, straw colored hair to fall over his shoulder. Thorathor stared up at Benzuhi with bright and fierce blue eyes. Taking a deep breath, Benzuhi began, “Honorable Thorathor. I have asked you here to discuss terms to enact a truce.” “Okay.” “Do you even know what a truce is?” Benzuhi’s question was sincere. He did not know if Thorathor could speak Katarian or even if he had a concept of what a truce was. Thorathor did not dint to respond, and simply glared at Benzuhi without visible emotion. Benzuhi decided to assume that Thorathor was aware of what a truce was, and so continued. “Conflict between us will only let the true enemy gain ever greater power.” “Horuzi!” “Yes! I am proposing that your people combine into the Asappe as auxiliaries as we take the fight to Horuzi. With your experienced men leading the way for my more disciplined soldiers, we will surely sweep Horuzi’s forces before us and end him swiftly.” Thorathor smiled then. It was a predatory smile that made Benzuhi wish that he had some protection with this man in the room. “So, you want my men to die finding the enemy for you. A pretty clever plan to get rid of two enemies at once. I’ll have remember that. I might be able to do it myself one day. But what do I get in return for this assistance?” “As the Seliersey of Assassya I have the authority to compensate you and yours. I can give you two thousand kuni right now, with more to come later.” “I don’t want riches. I want everything east of Delvi as my fief. Give that to me and I will fight for you.” An accomplished diplomat, a flabbergasted Benzuhi deftly showed no disgust on his face when he heard that proposal. “That seems a bit much. But perhaps I can see about granting you many estates, but…” “You can’t buy me off with some scraps of land,” Thorathor replied with menace in his voice. Thorathor became quite animated, but his voice never increased in volume. I spent a lot of effort creating my army, getting all those Elders to acquiesce to my overlordship. I will not throw it away just to help you get rid of Horuzi.” Hope swelled in Benzuhi. Whether or not the Smiliing Demon knew it or not, he had just admitted that he saw Horuzi as a bigger threat to himself than the Empire. In the back of his mind, Benzuhi knew that it should be the other way around: but that was the current state of affairs. Now all Benzuhi had to do was use Thorathor’s misstep and drive him into the Empire’s arms. “Now, I have neither the authority, nor the inclination, to simply cede territory to man that is not an Ahktuli,” Benzuhi said. “I do, I do, have the power to commission you as a high officer of the Empire, which would be even better than independence, as you would have the whole Empire backing you against all of your pursuits.” “I don’t like working for anyone! I won’t work for anyone! Especially your Turan!” “How about Horuzi? Would you like to work for him?” The look of rage and disgust on Thorathor’s face told Benzuhi that Horuzi was truly a sore subject for him. It would be tricky balancing act using Horuzi against Thorathor, but Benzuhi felt confident that he could do the deed. Just then the door swung open. Benzuhi turned to greet the servant who was bringing the wine and bread. But to his great surprise, it was Kamirri. “Kamirri Amer,” Benzuhi said before he stopped himself. “Amer?” Thorathor repeated, to Benzuhil’s horror. With serpentine speed Thorathor threw himself at Kamirri knocking down the Seliersey as he did so. Thorathor grabbed ahold of the Turan’s daughter, though he did not know her true parentage. He swept the maiden into his arms and to the balconey. Turning to the Seliersey, the Smiling Demon said, “Maybe now you’ll acquiesce to my wishes.” And then he leapt with the Amer off of the balcony and into the night. Benzuhi wasted no time. Loudly, he roused the palace. Messengers were dispatched to all garrisons, heralds were dispatched to all chiefs and mayors. All knew what had happened and to whom, so that all Imperial official were involved to save Kamirri Amer form the Smiling Demon.

III Kamirri walked to her quarters slowly. She was quite upset from her inability to get her uncle to understand. In her mind, Benzuhi was being quite weak willed. Just because he was unable to hold in check a rogue priest and a bandit, he was contemplating an alliance with the bandit! It was intolerable! All the while that Kamirri supervised the unpacking of her luggage, she fumed. Her uncle was just weak, that was all there was to that. It was only after she had replayed the conversation in her head for the fourth time did she remember that she had forgotten to tell Benzuhi something important about Horuzi. She refused an escort to simply walk up a floor to Benzuhi’s room, a mistake as she was soon to realize. She had barely stepped into the Seliersey’s study when she was assaulted. Stunned by the sudden attack, she barely registered her abduction. Though she did scream as her abductor leapt off the balcony, and slid down a rope that was attached to the rail. The man then half carried, half dragged Kamirri to a waiting pony tied up in a nearby the alley. By the time the two had left the city limits, Kamirri finally realized that she was being abducted. “What is the meaning of this outrage?” she demanded. “I mean to use you as leverage in negotiations with your father,” came the reply. “My father? Who are you that you would be in negotiations with the Turan of the Ahktulian Empire?” “The Turan? You’re not the Seliersey’s daughter?” “No!” she stated indignantly. “Benzuhi Vesha is only my uncle.” “Well, you’ll still make decent leverage. Better maybe. Certainly I wouldn’t want to tell my older brother I lost one of his children.” The abductor chuckled softly. Kamirri’s heart sank then, for she was clearly in the custody of an evil person. Truly frightened now, Kamirri rode on in silence, which, unbeknownst to her, was the preference of her captor. A few minutes passed since the thug left the palace when they came to the rugged foot of the surrounding the valley. But rather than taking the main road it appeared that they were taking a side trail. Kamirri had the presence of mind to worry at the speed at which they were traveling on this broken road. But Big Brother was almost full in the sky giving clear vision for the pony. As they ascended the Mattia Mountain Range, Kamirri became curious as to their destination. But when she went to ask the question her captor’s identity came out. “We’re going to my main camp in the Hausta Mountains,” the man replied. Kamirri remembered who was in those mountains, and went cold. Was she really in the hands of the bandit wrecking the Empire’s province? She might be in even graver danger than she at first thought. “Are we going there now?” she asked. Kamirri did not even bother to hide the fear that laced her voice. “No. For now we go south,” came the unexpected reply. “Soon I’ll take us east to my bases, but for now, let your uncle fruitlessly search the whole east for you. We won’t be there for days.”South! Towards Horuzi! “No!” she screamed quite loudly. “Do not take me to Horuzi. I beg of you!” “Quiet! Now! I’m not going to give you to that delusional priest. I said as much, didn’t I? I’m going to keep you for as long as you’re useful to me. Is that clear!” Kamirri said nothing as they continued on. For what seemed like hours they traveled onward, further and further away from civilization. However, it was only an hour that they came upon a camp. There were many tents erected and horses tied to makeshift horse pens. Someone, a look out, perhaps, challenged their approach. “It’s me! Idiot!” Thorathor replied. He then ordered his men to take Kamirri and set up a tent just for her. “Let me go,” she demanded. “And you will live.” Thorathor, who was walking away at the time, half turned to her, but said nothing. “They will come for me, and when they do, you will be crucified.” Thorathor said in reply, “Shut up!” And then he turned form her to his own tent. Kamirri, by then, had lost all will to resist, and so silently and without struggle went into her tent. But she did not go to sleep. Too much had happened for that to transpire. Thorathor’s bandit escort broke camp before sun up and marched in an ordered column. The whole affair reminded Kamirri of the [bodyguard horsemen]. As she, falsely assumed that such cohesive discipline was directed by Thorathor, Kamirri began to understand why this bandit had given Benzuhi such trouble. The Ahktuli Amer was placed on a rather well-nourished donkey and her hands were tied to the pommel. Thorathor ordered a rather tall man with dark greenish skin to walk along side of her and watch over her. The rings the man had been pierced all up his left ear, and the type of dirk on resting on his belt identified the man as a member of the Shalvos tribe of the Assassyan peoples, though Kamirri neither knew nor cared about that fact. They headed south along a barely used goat herding path. Walking near to the ridge lines of the Mountainous region, Kamirri was given an excellent view of the remarkably beautiful landscapes. The whole journey had a bit of serenity about it that made the whole thing not unpleasant. When the suns were nearing their zenith the company halted for a light meal. Kamirri was now feeling the heat in a bad way, for rarely was one of her stature ever in the sun for very long. Fortunately, her complaints did not go unnoticed. Unfortunately, Thorathor was not kind of soft-hearted bandits often found in tales of banditry. He warned her to quit complaining, threatening to wrap Kamirri in heavy blankets if she did not stop. The tone of the Smiling Demon’s soft, harsh voice convinced Kamirri that he would do worse if he wished. Yet she continued trying to get him to let her go. “I do not believe you understand the direness of your situation! I am Kelim Turan’s favored daughter! He will form a mighty host to inundate Assassya, and they will hunt down like a stag!” “I don’t care. These mountains are known as The Fortresses of the Gods for a very good reason. Your grandfather did overawe the chiefs of the hill men and did manage to take the cities, but you have yet to conquer these people. Your father will only be sending those soldiers here to die.” “You are far too confident, bandit!” Thorathor scoffed and turned his back on her. But almost the moment he did so, he screamed and fell to his knees, as did many of the bandits surrounding her. They were hit with arrows that had been shot from the western direction behind a ridge. And from that ridge came twenty armed men rushing down. Five men remained above continuing to rain down missiles upon the hapless bandits. In only a few terrible moments Thorathor’s entire band was either dead or fleeing for their lives, the dead outnumbering the living. And thus Kamirri found herself a prisoner of yet another band of outlaws. All of her inquiries as to their allegiance were met with great rudeness and threats of corrective violence. Though Kamirri noted that the threats were found to be quite empty, and thus inferred that someone of great power had ordered her to remain unharmed. It was cold comfort, though. Once again she was tied to an ass and marched along narrow goat trails in the hot suns of the Time of Heat. For three miserable days, the Ahktuli Amer was dragged along to an unknown destination. On the fourth day, a little past the noon time, Kamirri’s little group came upon a large village almost the size of a town, comprised of tents and huts. Surrounding this township was a wooden palisade of thick stakes with the only gap visible being used as the only gateway. On the other side of the small town was a large stone temple that seemed to act as the anchor by which the whole village was built around. In the shadow of that temple was an open semicircle of fifteen foot pillars surrounding a flattened stone that may have served as an altar, and two smaller pillars just in front. On approach to the village the leader of Kamirri’s keepers sent another off into the place for an unspecified purpose. Meanwhile, Kamirri and her escort moved off to the side. Kamirri was removed from her donkey, and waited for twenty minutes when someone approached. It was a tall man in a red robe and a tall red hat. The robe was lined with cloth-of-gold set in a distinct and unrecognized pattern. A shawl was draped around his neck which swayed to and fro as he sauntered toward her. “Ah. It is you. Just as he said! Just as he said!” Although terrified all this time, Kamirri remained stoic as a good Ahktuli Amer. But the priest’s rambling had taken her wits. “Wh…who said I would come?” she asked. “Horuzi, of course! He said that you would be coming. Tellwani sent to him a vision of you coming here to our lovely land. He then sent Bathu and his company to a certain location where you would be at the correct time.” Kamirri all but quailed. Horuti had known she was coming and wanted her to be here! The man stood up close to her, his mouth curled in a vicious smile and menace in his eyes. “You will find that it was not wise to come to us, Amer. All it did was get your followers killed and yourself in our power.”My followers? she noticed. Her courage was raised slightly as she now had a slim film of hope. She was not taken from her followers, but from the bandit Thorathor. Horuti’s magical strength was not as formidable as it first seemed. “Come with me,” the subaltern beckoned. And Kamirri had no choice but to obey. The subaltern’s escort surrounded Kamirri and he lead the whole group deep into the village. “Where are you taking me?” she asked. To her surprise the subaltern answered. “I am taking you to a temporary housing for the rest of the day and night.” “And who are you?” “I am Terador, son of Amours.” “And what am I being kept for? Terador remained silent and Kamirri did not press, realizing it would be useless. Whatever would happen would happen tomorrow.

IV Kamirri’s night in the large village of Horuzi was filled with fitful sleep. Horuzi wanted her here! The why of that haunted her, especially since she was his enemy. If the gods were just to her all Horuzi would want was ransom. But with the reputation of the Assassyan people he led, that might yet be a false hope. It was still the middle of the night when several rough looking men came for her. One of them grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged the Amer of the Ahktulian Empire from her tent. “Where are you taking me?” she asked with soft firmness. “Shut it!” two of the men stated at the same time. Kamirri decided to take that advice and walked along in silence. Her new escort took her down the main lane that had formed in the town, a path that lead directly to that queer alter she could see as she approached the city. As they moved, Kamirri looked all around her, a natural thing to do when one was an Amer on parade. And as she did so, she noticed that there was no one around to watch her procession. Surely by now the whole town had heard that she was here in their small burg, and who she was. Concerned, Kamirri looked ahead of the procession. The sight curdled her blood. Before her, there was a crowd gathered at the altar. It was a tightly packed crowd, separated into two halves that the main lane divided. Even though there had to be nearly a thousand people there, they seemed to be rather calm. It was as if they had been there before, witnessing the same thing. Kamirri now realized where she was going, and what her fate was most likely to be. She quickly attempted an escape, but her escort was too close to her, and too alert. Dread took what courage and pride she had left form her. She barely realized that she had been taken directly to the altar until she was standing there. Kamirri was forced onto the flat, stone altar and tied there. Thus far the crowd paid no attention to her presence and gave no indication that they had. Once Kamirri was secured, two men, bound with rope, were brought forth and tied to two pillars in front of the makeshift temple. Kamirri recognized their garb as officers of the Empire, most likely captured in earlier raids. All of a sudden, a hush came over the crowd. Kamirri turned her head away from the crowd to see three men approach. The two men on either flank wore similar clothing; a deep green robe with a gold fringed sash across over their left shoulder, and a tall, round flat topped hat with a window image on front. Each man held a leash that was fastened to a wolf. Those wolves looked docile, but Kamirri could see the will of the hunt in their eyes. But out in front was the more important man. He was dressed in a gold-yellow robe. Many brass chains hung around his neck with several gems attached between the links. The man had no hat on, revealing a balding, wintery head. His long, crocked nose gave him a vulture-like appearance, in stark contrast to his broad shoulders. This was Horuti in all of his wicked, awesome quality. Kamirri was struck with horror at his sight. He walked right up to the altar, and Kamirri was very much thankful that he did not look down at her. Horuti raised his arms, spreading them wide towards his enrapt audience. And with a deep, booming voice, he said, “Here, before you lays Kamirri Cohla, sovereigness of evil Ahktuli, just as has been foretold to me by the Lord of Moons, Hooratii, my father and benefactor. “It was he who told me the location of this Ahktuli Ameri and brought her here to me. And here, I will give her and her minions to Hooratii, that he may bless us on our holy war against the wicked oppressors.” In the grip of great horror, Kamirri watched as Horuti brought his hands to his face. Wrapping them into a cylinder, Horuti let out a ghastly call that could not have come from a human throat. To the Ahktuli Ameri it sounded almost cat-like. For a long moment, nothing happened. Horuti simply stood there with his arms at his side, motionless. Only the crowd made any noise, conversing with one another, but not as ones with misunderstandings as to what was happening. Indeed, only Kamirri and the Imperial officers were confused as to what was happening. Then silence descended onto the crowd. Craning her neck to look at the spectators and see what had happened. One of the officers began to cry out in mortal terror. And soon Kamirri knew why. From the center of the village walking without fear, was the largest mountain lion she had ever seen. Calmly, so very calmly, the monstrous cat walked down the central road of the village. Not one single person reacted to its approach or even seemed to care. They’re silence seemed more in reverence than in fear. The cat strolled up towards the altar and stopped short. It crouched down low, it’s tail straight as an arrow. It looked right between the two pillars that shackled the two officrers, and Kamirri went cold. Then the cat pounced onto one of the officers with such force that it ripped the poor man from his bonds. Kamirri cried out in horror, the crowd cheered in savage delight, and somewhere the bloody God of the Moons was quite pleased that one of its children was fed on the flesh of man, and had its thirst quenched on human blood. After a few shakes of the now dead man, the great cat turned around and left the town with its prize in mouth. The crowd erupted in applause and cheer until the cat was out of their sight. A terrifying silence descended on the ceremony though Kamirri hardly noticed it, intent as she was on the withdrawing cat. Then Horuti began to speak again: “Hooratii, the Lord of the Moons wishes his children to live and thrive. The beasts who came out at night and those who offer obedience all belong to Hooratii. Let us again give him our thanks.” And once again the mad priest brought his hands to his face, preparing to call another fel beast. The sound emanating from the high priest’s mouth sounded similar to the previous attempt, though this time it had a hiss to the queer words. Kamirri looked down the main road in horrid anticipation of what would come. For long moments she laid there watching the road, waiting for the horror that would come. She stared so long that she believed that the road itself was twitching in anticipation of the approaching evil. After a while, however, she noticed that it was not the road that was moving. It was a snake, a giant snake, which slithered towards the altar. A bloody scream tried to exit from Kamirri’s mouth, but her throat closed from sheer terror. Again, silence descended upon the crowd whilst the terrible serpent glided towards the second Imperial officer. That man tried vainly to break his bonds, trying to escape the approaching death. The great snake coiled some thirty feet from the prisoner’s pillar preparing to strike. It paused to stare at its victim, but only for a moment. The strike was sudden and barely seen. As, too, was the javelin thrown into the neck of the serpent. It fell down at the feet of the Imperial officer, dead. The interruption caused chaos amongst the crowd, and Kamirri suddenly feared a riot. Bursting forth from the crowd came a figure in a metal mask which was in the shape of a demonic smile. With unnatural speed, he ran to the altar with a long knife in hand. Horutti retreated from the fearsome figure and with the altar between the Smiling Demon and the High Priest, the attacker made a phatom swipe. But it was the extent of the new man’s assault. Instead he turned his weapon on Kamirri’s bonds, severing the ropes at her hands and feet with two mighty blows. The masked man grabbed Kamirri with fearsome ferocity. He then took the Ahktuli Amera into the temple complex. One of the wolves snapped at the man as they ran past, and he swiped at it with his knife, managing to slice its throat. Quickly, the man ran to the outcropping of rocks and pushed her to move. Kamirri lost track of how long they had been running along little used dirt trails and unblazed terrain. But after some time, Thorathor, who had by now taken off his mask, stopped them. “Do what I say! And don’t question me!” he commanded. Too terrified to say anything, Kamirri could not object if she wanted to. First Thorathor gingerly took a few steps backwards. Then he told her to also step backwards telling her where to step. After a few moments of this, Kamirri realized that she was stepping upon her own tracks. But to what end, she could not figure. Moments later Thorathor grabbed her by the arm and rushed her up a cliff they were now nearby. They entered into a cave-like roofing where Thorathor ordered her to lie still, and they waited. “What do we…?” Kamirri tried to ask. But Thorathor cut her off with sharp hissing sounds. So Kamirri just lay there silently. Then she heard the sound of trotting horses. And soon a company of horsemen was seen galloping across their positions. After a few moments of lying there, Kamirri dared to ask, “How did you know they were there? Thorathor looked at her strangely. “Of course Horutti sent pursuit after us. Why wouldn’t he?” Shamed by that chastisement, Kamirri fell silent. After a few moments, Thorathor grabbed her roughly by the arm and lifted her to her feet. At first they followed the horsemen, but only for a few hundred yards. Then they moved off to an unblazed section of hills. They tried to run in that unbroken country, but it soon became necessary to slow down their pace. Slower walking gave the illusion of safety and allowed Kamirri ‘s thoughts to catch up to her mind. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I saw you die!” “No you didn’t! I was hit by some arrows, but they never pierced my skin. With all my men dying, I decided to lay low and wait for the assailants to leave.” “By why did you come back for me?” “There’s no way I’d let anyone be prisoner to Horutii. His moon god eats souls for sustenance. I can’t think of a worse fate.” Kamirri was half-surprised at Thorathor’s extremely, and falsely, horrid view of Assassyan beliefs and practices. He truly was a foreigner in a foreign land. They walked quickly along unbeaten pathways to a destination neither Kamirri nor apparently Thorathor knew where. When asked, Thorathor could only say they were heading to the roads. With so few ‘roads’ in Assassya, Kamirri could only interpret that as an admission of being lost. The moon was high in the sky when Thorathor quickly shoved Kamirri to the side. Fearful, Kamirri curled into a ball preparing for blows of anger. But instead Thorathor pulled out his knife and swiped at a passing shadow. The panther fell to the ground with a thud and writhed around like a common earthworm, blood gushing out of neck. Thorathro stood over the dying beast, breathing deeply and very quickly. He looked at the creature and at Kamirri. “Are your injured?” he asked. He seemed genuinely concerned, which surprised the Ahktuli amer a great deal. “No,” she replied. “I am alright.” Thorthor offered his hand to her, and she accepted. Once Kamirri was on her feet, they began to run again. “Why did that panther attack us?” Kamirri asked when they had slowed their pace. “Such creatures fear men, even just the two of us.” Thorathor stopped there and turned to Kamirri. “Horutti must have sent it upon us. It is known that he uses many beasts as spies and assassins.” Kamirri was aghast. “How…how can he do that? Animals can only be controlled at a certain distance. Horutii is a strong magician, but is he able to cast such strong Black Magic? Certainly he is not nearby, else we would know that.” “No. It’s not magic. It’s something older and better.” Thorathor said no more and urged them onward. But only a few hundred yards, they stopped again. Thorathor turned around and knelt to the ground and began to draw something in the dirt. It was a queer symbol as any Kamirri had ever seen. It was a circle with three lines on the top and two at the bottom. He then grabbed the Ahktuli princess’s hand and bringing it down to the ground. He would not let go for all of her protestations. “Be quiet!” he finally demanded. And so they knelt there for a while, when a wolf appeared. Kamirri was instantly frightened and tried to stand, but Thorathor held her down. The wolf slowly walked toward them sniffing. When it came to the queer symbol, it gave it a good sniff. Then it sniffed at Kamirri and Thorathor’s hand, which lay in the symbol. The wolf then seemed to stare into Thorathor’s eyes. After only a tense moment, the wolf turned around and left the two there alone. “There,” exclaimed Thorathor. “Now Horutii shouldn’t be able to set any more wild beasts against us.”

The two fugitives, a foreign-born, rebel-rousing warlord and an Ahktuli princess, sat in a small enclave amongst an outcropping of rocks in silence. Thorathor shared with Kamirri a bit of jerky and hardtack he had on him. Kamirri was most grateful for that. She was exhausted and had not eaten in quite a long time, as such the poor food was as a banquet in her mouth. A few moments of silence was all Kamirri could take, however. So she asked, “What happened back there with the wolf? How can you be so sure that Horuti can no longer use beasts to pursue us?” “Because I told them that we’re one of them.” “One of them? How? Does it have something to do with that symbol?” “Yes,” Thorathor said laconically. The rebel leader then sighed in resolve. “That was the sign of Ktl’Shl.” “Who or what is Kettle Shield?” Thorathor gave a weary and frustrated sigh. But he did speak. “Back in Iceland, where I’m from, we would often adorn our tents with that symbol. We did that in order to keep the beasts and spirits of the wild from attacking us in our sleep. However, we did this without knowing why. It was simply habit. And I certainly didn’t think I would see it outside of my primitive world. “While trekking across the savanna of Merdica, I came to a village troubled by undead vultures and other wickedness. After aiding them in fending off the most recent attack, I made friends with their holy man. He said that these creatures were sent by a terrible magician who worshiped Ktl’Shl. With help, I dealt with the magician. But before I would deliver the death blow, the man went on about Ktl’Shl and how he was the creator of all the beasts of Aerith.” “The same deity was worshipped thousands of miles apart?” Kamirri exclaimed. “I never worshipped Ktl’Shl. It was only ever invoked. And we Icelanders never even knew who Ktl’Shl was. We only used his sign to ward off evil.” “And did not even know what it was called?” Kamirri asked. “We called it ‘evil go away,’” Thorathor said annoyed. “Anyway, it wasn’t until I was in the Library of Cantos,” Kamirri stared at Thorathor in disbelief, but he continued, “Calling in a favor that I did years earlier. While researching, yes researching, a different topic of research I came upon the symbol. It was woven into a large tapestry, one little mark amongst a vast story. When I asked about the symbol, I was told it was the Mark of Ktl’Shl, but they could tell me little of Ktl’Shl. Indeed, I seemed to know more about the entity then they did.” “But when did you learn you could control beasts with it?” “I didn’t control anything! I talked to them. Because they remember who Ktl’Shl is. Like men, beasts forget. But here, in these ancient hills no one forgets. Not even the men.” The two fugitives then sat along in silence the rest of the night. The events of the past few days finally catching up to Kamirri, sending her into a deep sleep.

VI A sharp pain struck Hamirri’s side, instantly waking her from a deep slumber. Looking up she saw Thorathor looking down on her, a grim expression on his face. “Get up,” he said, severely. There was no remorse upon his face, and even more ice in his voice. “We’re moving.” Slowly Kamirri pushed herself to her knees. Her entire body was quite stiff, used as it was too soft, feather stuffed beds. She tried to stand, but her lower back screamed out in protest. Kamirri wanted to beg of Thorathor a moment to stretch, but clearly the brigand was in no mood for sympathy as he grabbed and dragged her along. “Where are we going?” Kamirri asked. “East. I’m taking you to my territory and away from Horutii.” Kamirri felt a twinge of horror in her stomach. Until now she had assumed that Thorathor was taking her to Imperial lands. A foolish thought to be sure, but what other option was there? What did could he possibly have in store for her? “What do you want me for?” she asked with quivering lips. Would he take his frustrations out on her when all is said and done. “Hold you for ransom,” the Smiling Demon said with typical bluntness. “I’ll expect a great reward for turning you in safely.” “So, you wish rewards for your thuggish behavior. Very well. If you return me to “Capital” I will grant you two million ‘gold’.” Thorathor laughed in hearty manner that surprised Kamirri. “Well that is niggardly of you. Certainly the Turan would spend much and more for you. Wouldn’t he, Amer?” Kamirri had no response and certainly had no desire to talk. They walked along in total silence east. Hours without rest, with Kamirri’s whines of protest falling on a deaf ear. Onward they trekked through a hot sun beating down on her, the valleys offering little in the way of shade. “Do we even have a destination?” Kamirri at last asked around noon. “Yes,” Thorathor replied. But no more information was forthcoming. It was nearing the evening time when they heard someone out there call for them from behind. The voice was coming from behind a rock that made a bend in the path, which to Kamirri sounded much like her father. Her breathe stopped. Her father had come for her. Everything would be fine. Thorathor crouched low to the ground, his unarmed hand pushing Kamirri behind him in an almost protective manner. As the voice of her father came closer, Thorathor pushed her further away. She wished to protest, but his concerned stunned her and left her dumb. And then she understood why. From behind the bend appeared a terrible creature. While it’s bat-like wings covered most of its body, it’s chicken-like legs, with long talons, were quite visible. Suddenly it stopped moving, and appeared to study the two through its own wings. “So, you are the blasphemer?” the creature said. Its voice was a sharp blade slicing through Kamirri’s soul. “What do you mean?” Thorator responded. “Who have I blasphemed?” “Moon god! You have blasphemed the Moon god, __! And I am here to exact vengeance for your heresty!” “What have I done to earn the Moon god’s ire? I have ever been respectful to all gods in all places.” There was a great deal of worry in Thorathor’s voice as he spoke, for while no man could cause him fear, the gods above were no men. “You have invoked that which only Moon may allow to be invoked. Only he may pass on the knowledge of the ancient way.” “What ancient way are you talking about?” From the fold of the wings came a long, skeletal arm with unnaturally long talons that extended high into the air. Then it came down to the ground with a hard thud. When it left, the ground was smoldered as if it had been burned. And when the smoke cleared a familiar looking symbol was carved into the ground: the talons of Ktl’Shl. “Only Moon god may bestow the knowledge of the Talons of Ktl’Shl. And you are not favored! I am the wrath of Moon god!” The creature spread its wings long and transparent wings revealing itself. It was thin as a skeleton, literal skin and bones. Whilst it legs were proportionate to a man’s, albeit with long talons for feet, its arms were as long as it was tall. A misshapen head, pointed in a triangle, and black, greasy hair adorned its thin shoulders. This was Jor’uti of the Night, as Kamirri well knew. Kamirri wanted to run, run and scream at Thorathor to do the same. But she just stood there dumb as a rock. Jor’uti moved slowly towards the two, its arms spread wide and pointed for the kill. Thorathor also leaned forward as he drew his long knife. Thorathor never made a move as Jor’uti slowly edged forward. When the creature struck, it was so fast that Kamirri saw only a blur. One moment it was ten yards away, and another it was on top of Thorathor, its arms wrapped around the bandit lord. Kamirri screamed. Then Jor’uti of the Night slid down Thorathor and collapsed onto the ground. Thorathor backed away still staring at the fallen creature. Kamirri ran to hug Thorathor in a great grasping hug. She began to weep. “What happened? What happened to you?” she asked with urgency between sobs. “I killed it,” replied Thorathor. “As soon as it pounce, I stabbed it in the chest.” He sounded unusually distant as he spoke, as if even he could not believe that he had committed these actions. The two stood locked that way for a few long minutes, not moving. But without warning Thorathor turned around and took Kamirri away from the scene. They had walked only a few miles when they heard the sounds of a battle close by. Again Kamirri thrust herself behind onto Thorathor, hoping for his protection. Thorathor shrugged her off with visible contempt. Then he paused to listen for the mortal combat going on around him. Suddenly, he grabbed Kamirri by the arm and dragged her up a hill. “Where are we going?” Kamirri exclaimed. “We are going towards the violence.” Thorathor quieted her with a growl, and continued to climb the hill. When they reached the hilltop, they crouched down slightly and observed. He saw two armies clashing all along the valley floor. It must have been about two or three thousand men apiece, all armed with javelins, bows and arrows, and swords. One side was losing ground fast, trying and failing to create a defensive line. The losing side was might have been caught unawares, or was simply badly led. “Those are my men!” Thorathor exclaimed. “Losing! How could they be so foolish?” Thorathor grabbed Kamirri and ran down to the ongoing battle, while Kamirri screamed in protest the whole way. As they ran past pockets of his own forces, he would rally them and get them to fighting. Like a cliff of granite before a raging storm, Thorathor rallied his beleaguered men into a solid line of engagement. The Smiling Demon handed off Kamirri to someone, telling the man to keep her safe in the army’s rear. It was from this position that Kamirri witnessed the final phase of the battle. In the hour that Thorathor arrived, his followers managed to form a line of battle. Archers were firmly behind solid cover, defended by courageous men with spears, swords, and javelins. Horutii’s forces were completely stymied. And it allowed Thorathor to make a counterattack. Not many companies were available for the operation, but they made up their fewer numbers with raw courage, screwed up by Thorathor, who was even now fighting amidst that storm of blood and fury. But it was not enough. Horutii had too many armed on his side. Just then sparkling twinkles appeared to the west. Kamirri knew from the many times of witnessing parades of the army that they indicated the march of armed men. Reinforcements had arrived, but for whom? Sometime later she overheard that they were not reinforcements, but an Ahktulian army. While Kamirri was experiencing her worst nightmare, her uncle had pushed Imperial forces out searching for her. In the midst of their search, word came to them of a movement of a sizable number of Thorathor’s forces. The Ahktulian commander decided to follow on and investigate. And so they stumbled upon the ensuing battle. But what would their next course of action be? Kamirri only overheard this, but she was excited with unspeakable joy. She marched up to a man she felt was one of Thorathor’s commanders, and told him to go to the commander of the Ahktulian force with her signet ring. With that in hand the Ahktulian commander would listen when he was told to attack the men on the high ridge; Horutii’s camp. When they attacked, it turned the course of the whole battle. As Horutii’s warriors fell back in a panic, Thorathor’s surged forward in a maelstrom of hate and fury. Horutii tried to rally his forces by calling down a hailstorm in the midst of his enemies. But it was no longer a useful trick. Horutii’s forces were duly routed by the (horsemen)’s charge. With the battle done, Thorathor returned to his army headquarters, with high officers of the Imperial Host. In one of his hands he held Horutii’s severed head. “Amer,” Thorathor began. “This is Belecrond el Thaugh. He will be taking you back to “Capital.”” “Thank you ‘Honorable’ Thorathor,” Kamirri said, adding an unnecessary honorific. “I’ll be sure to gather up your due ransom once I am home.”